Rudimentary Philosophy

Pillow Talk

You cannot escape truth when talking across a pillow. Delirious comfort leaves no space for fear. If there was a banking system for time, an exchange rate for moments, for getting back what we've lost, I would invest all these empty hours I bleed out introspectively on the page for one morning spent volleying whispered… Continue reading Pillow Talk

Essay · Mental Health · Rudimentary Philosophy

Surviving Suicide: What I’ve Learned After 10 Years

10 years ago, I attempted suicide. On a summer night in 2008, my parents drove me from the house where I was raised to the emergency room in an effort to save the life of their 21-year-old son. My action was built on several years of mental turmoil and anguish, of unchecked thoughts and words… Continue reading Surviving Suicide: What I’ve Learned After 10 Years

Essay · Gallimaufry · Humor · Rudimentary Philosophy

Landlines: One Reason the ’90s Were the Best Decade for Elementary School Romance

Chivalrous courtship, (in the elementary-school-aged-male sense of the word) isn’t dead, but it took a major hit during the latter half of the first decade of this millennium. It started when households began doing away with their home phones and choosing to exclusively use cellular phones. With that one decision, the family itself lost a… Continue reading Landlines: One Reason the ’90s Were the Best Decade for Elementary School Romance

Essay · Rudimentary Philosophy

Memory Wormhole (An Opening)

The falsities I signify as memories lie in stacked planes, pierced by a needle, threaded taut at the most peculiar points; each day is an involuntary setting off of previously lived remembrances, bounded in touchstones I’ve symbolically mythologized in my psyche. One past moment bounds into another: full submersion in a wormhole of past occurring… Continue reading Memory Wormhole (An Opening)

Essay · Mental Health · Rudimentary Philosophy

Inkwell Reflections for Miss Dickinson

White dress white dress how softly compressed prismatic coordinates printed over a spectrum of threads matching sheets covering the little table and chairs in the upper room of consciousness. White—no color or all the colors at once? All the bright or all the dark the stark dark hair and the pale face pale arms pale… Continue reading Inkwell Reflections for Miss Dickinson